


The Court of Nightmarish Behaviours

by thetrainduck



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Gen, Non-Consensual Touching, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26665777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetrainduck/pseuds/thetrainduck
Summary: Nightmares don't just happen in the dark, but in this story, they do.A female from the Court of Nightmares ends up mixing with the Inner Circle.
Relationships: Elain Archeron & Azriel, Elain Archeron/Azriel, Feyre Archeron & Rhysand, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Kudos: 12





	1. The Court of Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> hello there you poor souls, please keep in mind that this is pure garbage, and that the first 3 chapters were written months before the last ones which you can tell because the characters flip flop, my deepest apologies for each and every one of you that happens to read this

Anella Sylvester lived under a mountain, she was a member of the Court of Nightmares in the Night Court but females weren't really seen as a part of the court so she didn't call herself one. Her father wanted to be like Kier, a steward, who had plenty of power in the court. All Anella wanted was to get away from her family, they were already considering who to sell her off to; wondering which marriage would gain them the most.

Anella wished she had the Morrigan's strength, to take her future into her own hands and sleep with a bastard Illyrian, sully herself so much that the Lord of Autumn's eldest son did not want her. She wasn't allowed to go anywhere near males, the Court of Nightmares had learned from past 'mistakes'. Anella was never left alone with males that weren't her father, she was just worth too much to him.

Her blonde hair must remind people too much of Morrigan, it was long and golden and fell around her shoulders. Her eyes were a pale coral blue, and her skin was equally as pale; she had never even been out of the mountain. She was usually dressed in a darker blue than her eyes, in hope to complement them and bring out the bluer parts as sometimes they seemed almost grey.

Tonight she was dressed in such a gown, the dress went down to mid-calf, and the neckline plunged low into her chest. Her father had reluctantly allowed a thigh-slit to be made, in order to help her bow when the High Lord and Lady arrived. Anella was going to see them for the first time that evening at a party, the Court of Nightmares always made sure there was a celebration whenever their Lord and Lady were due to visit. This was the first Anella was invited to one and she was curious as to why; she was not going to query her chance to attend their visit.

She had been dressed shortly before and was soon to make her way through the dark, damp corridors to the huge hall where the party was. She was nervous of seeing all of her court gathered, hoping her father would not try to hide her from any male gaze and randomly send her back to her rooms just when something got interesting. 

"Are you ready to go to the hall daughter?"

"I will be out shortly father, I just have to put on my necklace."

She _hated_ the necklace her father had chosen for tonight, the stones matched her eyes yet again. Anella had always wondered why he had insisted on her wearing blue, yes there was plenty of variety within the one colour, but it wasn't difficult to get bored of her monotone wardrobe.

"Our High Lord and Lady will be arriving soon with their Inner Circle. They do not take kindly to tardiness." Her fathers tone was clipped, he was already losing patience with her. It took all of her will not to roll her eyes as he entered her room, furrowed his eyebrows slightly and growled slightly. "You don't need to look so depressed, females are supposed to cheer up us males. It's not the other way around."

"I'm sorry father, I will try to look happier tonight." Full sentences, speak clearly, ensure all sentences made sense, and now _smile._ Anella could have cried with frustration, her father had spent the past 25 years training her to be the perfect lady, and she felt she had never lived as herself. However she was not one to fight, it had not been trained out of her, the instinct, she just had never had it. Endure and survive. That was all it ever had been, and all it ever would be.

She rose to her feet from in front of the mirror, adjusting her gown to sit unruffled on her beautiful, curved body. Her father had always been proud of that, how beautiful her body had become. As if it was his achievement; as it if was an achievement at all. She curtseyed to him and he offered his arm. Anella took the muscular arm and willed a calm, serene smile onto her face. Her father looked pleased and led her out of the room, into a dark corridor. His footsteps were urgent, it was _very_ important they were not late. The High Lord especially would not be pleased, and her father would likely be the one facing a punishment due to their tardiness.

They arrived in the huge hall, the lights that hung high from the roof giving the room an eerie glow. The crowd shifted around, drinking and talking quietly. Anella sensed tenseness in the room and realised everyone was waiting for the High Lord, to see what his mood was today, before they relaxed or tried to slip away. 

She stood for a few minutes standing holding her fathers arm while he discussed boring matters that she had no idea about with his 'friends'. They likely all hated each other, all battling for the next promotion, but she didn't care at this point. Anella was too busy waiting for the High Lord and Lady. Eventually her father sensed she was nearly falling asleep on her feet with the lack of stimulation and told her to go and get a drink. His words shocked her enough that she didn't say anything as she slid away into the crowd. Why did he not think she would just go and find a male like Morrigan had? Anella considered the possibility then realised she wasn't brave enough to do anything like that; her father was right to trust her in a crowd of males and females.

Anella finally made her way to a table with variations of refreshment and selected what she hoped was a safe choice. Her happiness-forced eyes roamed over the room, assessing everyone she could define in the crowd. She found people fascinating, how they were all different. The crowd behaviour nearly made her chuckle aloud, no one was trying to stand out. Every single Fae in the room was trying their hardest to hide in the shadows.

She raised the glass to her parched lips and drank slowly, still judging how the Fae around her kept their distance. Anella put the glass back on the table once it was finished and made the decision to go back to her father. The building tension set her on edge and it was definitely safer to stay with him, he could talk her through how to behave in their High Lord and Lady's presence, she would've been looking forward to it if there was not terror starting to rise at what might happen if she acted out of line. 

A voice called to her across the room, and Anella knew she needed to get to her father straight away. Risking being separated when she did not know how to behave was not an option. Her feet had her halfway to him, when the huge oak doors creaked, and opened.

The High Lord and Lady had arrived with their Inner Circle.


	2. The Hall

They were all gorgeous in their own rights. The whole of the Inner Circle wasn't present it was just the Lord and Lady accompanied by Morrigan and the two bastard Illyrian males, Cassian and Azriel. Anella immediately realised she could have passed for Mor's twin, the same hair and face structure, similar height. No wonder the Court of Nightmares was so worried about her acting out. The High Lord's dark hair was hidden by a huge crown, sparkling with jewels, his violent violet eyes flared in the candle light and he stood tall and foreboding. He wore his regular black jacket and trousers, simple yet terrifying. His mate, the High Lady merely looked amused, a sparkling crown also sitting on her own hair, a darker colour than Mor's. She was dressed in an navy gown, almost black. It flowed around her ankles and was far more scandalous than anything Anella would be allowed to wear.

The Morrigan was dressed in red, her lips matching and she wore a smirk upon them. Her eyes darted mockingly about the room. Then the two Illyrians dressed in their Illyrian fighting leathers entered. One was wreathed in shadows with 7 cobalt siphons blazing, his hands scarred with a wicked dagger hanging by his side. The other looked so typically arrogant, just like the tales Anella had been told of the Illyrians who graced the Night Court mountains. His siphons were red and he strode in like he owned the place, when his hazel gaze turned to Anella, she forgot who she was, his stare was so intense... hang on. Why was he staring at her?

His terrifying gaze stayed on her as they moved towards the dais. The High Lord and Lady took their seats and their three companions sat on a lowered part of the dais on their own chairs. Nowhere as fancy as the Lord and Lady's. Anella noticed now it was more than the Illyrian who was staring at her, it was all 5 of them. She stared back blankly then noticed, everyone was bowing. She wasn't.

Hurriedly, she tried to drop down but a voice stopped her, the High Lord's tone was soft and deadly. "Not quick enough, _little_ girl..."

She saw her father out of the corner of her eye, horror in his gaze. Even he didn't know what to do. So she stood frozen to the spot, wishing she could vanish into the shadows. The shadows.... Suddenly cold hands shoved into her back, pushing her forward. The Shadow singer, he had travelled behind her and was now herding her towards the dais and the other 4 heart-stopping warriors. "Come and say hello." His voice held none of the High Lord's command, but she felt he would be capable of delivering a fate worse than that of the High Lord. Her feet brought her stumbling through the hall, stopping before the thrones and three nearly as grand chairs.

"Don't think you need to bow to your High Lord and Lady? What has given you such a thought that we are not worthy of your respect?" Anella's knees where shaking as she dropped to them and bowed her head.

"I apologise my Lord... uh... I have not attended one of your visits before..." Now she really wanted the shadows to swallow her up. The shadow singer stayed standing behind her, a great fearful warrior who she wished never to have his anger directed at her again.

A dark chuckle came from the male behind her, one of sinister promise. "Surely someone told you how to respect your High Lord and Lady."

"I... I forgot myself, lord..."

The High Lady spoke for the first time since they had arrived in the court, "General Cassian nearly forgot himself seeing you in that dress. We do not have time to deal with girls who have forgotten their manners. But _he does._ " She glanced at his expression from her bowed face and saw a pleased smirk there, he drawled to his High Lady, "Why I would be _most pleased_ to teach her some manners, my Lady."

Anella felt his hazel eyes run over her bowed body, a slight trembling running through her. She didn't know what was going to happen next. "We tire of you, go and sit with the general and next time we visit you can practise what he teaches you. He was looking for a playmate tonight anyway." And just like that she was waved away, she tried to get to her feet but she was shaking so hard she couldn't manage it. The other Illyrian didn't care to watch her struggle and grabbed her arm, almost carrying her up to the lower part of the dais to in front of the three seats. He let go of her like he had been carrying a piece of shit and elegantly slid into his seat, but she didn't have time to watch him do so as the general, Cassian, was beckoning her.

One finger curled, commanding her to come closer. She looked about with increasing panic before she concluded this was the worst day she had ever lived. Just as she was within arms distance of him and felt like she was going to fall to the floor and die with fear, he grabbed her waist. He spun her gracelessly and pulled her into his lap. She let out a gasp as landed, he didn't allow her a chance to think before he slid her further into his lap, carefully manoeuvring her legs and dress so she wasn't going to slither onto the floor.

Anella shifted uncomfortably, wishing she was anywhere but in this males lap. His harsh voice crooned in her ear, "This night just got 10 times better now I've got a gorgeous female writhing in my lap." That made her stop moving, freezing in horror. Then with increasing terror she wriggled desperately, trying to get away from him. She could not do this, she would rather be beheaded. His strong arms kept her trapped and he chuckled in her pointed ear, holding her close as she squirmed. Then she felt something, something hard. _Nope nope nope nope nope nope nope this could not be happening, this could not be happening._ Her father couldn't allow this someone had to stop it. _No no no no no no this was not acceptable._

Anella tried one last time, trying to wrench herself from his grip. She nearly succeeded, getting half out of his lap before he slid her back towards him and the damn bastard moaned. Anella thought fear would overwhelm her, Cassian was _enjoying_ himself. His muscled arms pulled her right next to him and he whispered in her ear again, "You can't expect to wriggle about on a male's lap looking as delicious as you do tonight without getting some kind of response sweetheart."

A shudder ran through her but she stilled, resigning herself to sit perfectly still for the rest of the night. 


	3. This Can't be Happening

Anella was fucking terrified, she had disrespected her High Lord and Lady. Their reputations, especially the High Lords, were terrifying. Rhysand was known to kill members of the court for fun but the general? He was supposed to be even worse. Brutal in battle and devilish with females, that was how Cassian was known. And now she was stuck on his lap, in this horrifying dress that barely covered her body.

One of his broad arms was wrapped around her stomach, the other resting on the arm of the grand chair. His fingers were splayed over her hip and his breath sent shivers through her skin as he pushed his face into her neck and shoulder. Her body recoiled from his touch but she couldn't move away, she was frozen on his lap as he picked up his drink with his left hand and took a long drink before putting it back down the arm and turning his gaze to his companions.

They spoke about matters around the whole of the Night Court, but Anella didn't understand much of it and was far too distracted by the general. The hand that been resting quietly on her hip now started to move, stroking her dress and stomach slowly. Her muscles were so tense she imagined if someone pushed her she would land on the ground in the same sitting position just on her side. But the Cassian didn't even seem to notice what he was doing, he spoke quietly to his companions even though it didn't seem to effect the brashness of his voice. Azriel's voice still sent shivers down her spine, remembering how he had appeared behind her silently. The Morrigan seemed quite cheery and refused to look at Anella, acting as if she wasn't there.

The spymasters shadows curled over his hands, round his ears and some resided on his wings. They intertwined with his scarred fingers which grasped a gauntlet full of the strongest Faerie wine in the whole hall. He looked fed up with being in the Court of Nightmares, and drunk heavily. She noticed him continuously glaring at Keir and the way he would always glance back and Mor. He didn't like Keir for his treatment of the Morrigan then, but it seemed to be more than the steward that made him want to drink. Maybe it was just being in the Hewn City at all.

Morrigan didn't drink too much, having chosen a much lighter wine. She sat between Cassian and Azriel, and spoke to them both equally. She kept casting glances over to her cousin and his mate, watching for any orders from them. Her blood red gown flowed around her and she had one leg crossed over the other. She had a look of pure boredom, looking over the magnificent court like it was nothing and she was its queen. Anella followed her gaze over the court and noticed her father.

He stood staring at her from across the busy hall, more panic was in his eyes than she felt in her whole body. He looked mortified at the sight of her on the bastard generals lap and she wondered whether he would disown her for it. Her father seemed too concerned however, no he would not disown her. Unless it went any further. Cassian felt her gaze shift and murmured "What do you see? Do you have a lover who thinks my touch will disgrace you?" her breath hitched as he moved his right hand down to her leg, sliding it under to rest on her upper thigh.

"Will he refuse to touch you after I do _this_?" 

"Please, I..." His hand slid to the inside of her thigh and she exclaimed. He shifted how she was sitting to open her legs wider and his fingers caressed her freezing cold skin. His fingers kept moving as his lips brushed her neck. He moved his head closer and his teeth grazed her pale throat as she spoke again "Please..." her voice had lost the strength that was in it a moment earlier and she just wanted it to stop. Her father's dark eyes were pinned on her and the male behind her. She was sure in that moment that he wanted to kill Cassian for touching his daughter like that, not just because if she was dishonoured he may struggle to marry her off, but because she was clearly asking him to stop, and he kept going.

His fingers traced circles and lines under her blue dress, setting her on edge but she soon realised he wasn't going to go any further and slowly relaxed back into light tenseness and silence.

She stared out at the Court of Nightmares again, the desperation in her eyes making them go grey. Lots of drinking, a mixture of types of Faerie wine many she hadn't seen before. Everyone was dressed in finery, some more scandalous than others. The majority of the males were clothed in dark suits, there was a slow swaying throughout the room as people danced and celebrated the visit of their High Lord and Lady. Although she suspected they would rather their terrifying visitors were not present. The two of them continued to watch the room like Anella was until the High Lord turned his head towards his companions, and her.

His violet gaze flicked over Azriel and Mor first, noticing the rather drunk shadow singer and the devastatingly sober female. Then his gaze moved to Cassian and Anella, his focus flicked down to where the generals right hand obviously lay, he smirked at his bastard brother and she saw him wink back at his High Lord in her peripheral vision. 

"Darling," his deep voice echoed across the hall, and a few turned to catch a glance at what he was doing, hope that they were soon to leave. "Look how well behaved she is now she's spent some time with our general, maybe we should get him to train all of the females here."

A grin grew on Cassian's face as he replied "That would be most _enjoyable_... my Lord"

Males moved closer to their females, and the ones dressed in more suggestive gowns tried to hide themselves from the males staring down at the crowd from the dais. Anella lowered her face in shame, not wanting her father to see how embarrassed she was.

"Why I think our dear shadow singer enjoyed his part in it as well, perhaps he could help." Said shadow singer blinked drunkenly and stared over at his High Lady. "Anything that pleases my Lord and Lady."

"I'm sure we could find a group of Illyrians who could assist me, they would be very pleased."

The room recoiled at Cassian's words, as if Illyrians could be given power over High Fae in the Court of Nightmares. No one spoke to oppose him but the High Lord chuckled ominously and waved a hand in dismissal to his companions. She realised Cassian's hand had stilled on her thigh and he no longer breathed onto her neck, bored of her, good. Hopefully that meant it was nearly over.

She noticed how he watched Azriel carefully, he was worried about how drunk he was she thought. The Hall seemed to spot it as well and they regarded him curiously. A moment later after the room's activities continued with a slight sullenness he got to his feet and strode off to where a table was full of food. The general continued to stare after him but consciously seemed to go back to lowering his head to her neck and moving his fingers along her thigh. They were strange patterns, but she was too busy observing the spymaster to note what they were.

The faeries gathered around the table scattered as he moved closer, his hand reached out and he grabbed a chicken drumstick. He brought it to his mouth and ripped into it; his hazel eyes glared at anyone who he caught staring at him. She thought she heard Cassian mutter "Careful Az..." as all hell broke loose.

Shadows erupted from the ground, casting silhouettes of horrors she could never unsee. They wreathed and lashed like vines, before selecting their target and holding up a young cocky male who had been strutting around earlier. Anella knew him, her father always made sure she was never alone with him especially as he had quite the reputation. The male was held up by my smart collar but a shadowy hook.

The shadow singer spoke no words as he scowled openly at him. The drunken awkwardness was gone from his movements as he stalked closer to the other male and snarled in his face. The male was held up a few feet higher by the shadow but Azriel spread his wings out and with a boom he shot up to be at the same height. They spread out and blocked light from many of the chandeliers. The elevated male shook with fear at the wrath of unmerciful hate that was on the spymasters face, as he unsheathed Truth-Teller, the ancient wicked blade sliding soundlessly from its leather.

The entire Hall was silent and many of them dropped to their knees in hope the sign of respect would spare them from the unstoppable wrath of the Illyrian male. The two males slowly sank towards the floor, no other faerie was within 15 feet of them. As Azriel's feet met the ground he lunged forward and dragged the blade down the other males chest, opening him from throat to gut. The shadow dropped his and flicked as it slid away back into the dark corners of the room, as if glad to not have to touch the gutted male any longer.

He lay on his front on the ground and groaned nearly soundlessly in unimaginable pain as he took his last breaths. The spymaster bared his teeth at the dying faerie and grabbed another drumstick before striding back to his seat, sheathing the blade that had just ended a Fae's life.

The High Lord and Lady just looked bored, Mor did as well although her eyes followed her friends movements carefully as he moved towards them. Cassian just sighed and instinctively muttered "Remind me not to let him get that drunk ever again."

Her head snapped round to look at him and he seemed to remember who she was and gave a slight shrug. A few moments later he slid his hand out from under her dress and rested it on her right hip, no longer trapping her in his grip. She suspected he was planning to let her go as he left, bored of her company. 

Azriel managed to finish his drumstick uninterrupted this time and the High Lord and Lady rose from their thrones. The hall kneeled including their 3 companions, Cassian was surprisingly gentleman like and helped her down without falling. Their two leaders exited swiftly and Cassian, Mor and a slightly more sober Azriel got to their feet, the hall followed their lead and her father rushed over.

"Anella, come quickly we have to get you to bed."

Cassian's hand rested possessively on her lower back and she felt his fingers grip slightly into her skin. He fixed his glare on her father with open disgust and laughed. Mor glanced over at them when she heard the sound and also saw her father, her gaze narrowed. The general beside her looked over at his friend and she gave the slightest shake of her head, that was evidently enough as he spoke to her father.

"I'll make sure she's in bed on time, I haven't tired of her yet. She's quite the looker." The haunting drawl was back and she felt everything in her body go silent, _he wasn't done with her_. 

"She's betrothed! You can't ruin her marriage." It was the first she had heard of any betrothal but if it would get her out of this situation...

"Our High Lord and Lady gave her into my care for tonight, I shall do as I please." A tremble ran through her as his hand pushed into her back and she moved forward instinctively.

"I might return her in one piece... I might not." With that their party of 4 glided through the hall towards the huge doors. Her father gaped after her and saw Cassian's hand laying on her back eyes flitting to her own, as horror filled as hers. He spoke clearly enough to people near them to here, "I've been looking for a new plaything."


	4. The House of Wind

She stayed silent as they left under the mountain, she felt in a daze as they leapt into the sky in Cassian's arms. Wings beat all around her for a few seconds before they were winnowed to just outside the House of Wind. A few more flaps and they were landing at the well known House of Wind, Anella had never been out from under the mountain, yet alone to Velaris, and started to look around with great interest. She was so distracted by the night sky, Anella didn't notice the male carrying her was shaking. 

It was only when they landed she realised the High Lord and Lady were not with them, they must have snuck off when they arrived in the city. Two pairs of feet thudded onto the stones, Mor slid gracefully out of Azriel's arms. Exhaustion masked his features and he sighed heavily, Mor exclaimed loudly as he started to walk away into the darkened corridors. "What the hell Az? What did they even do?!"

"Leave it Mor, you wouldn't understand."

Mouth agape, she watched him leave. Steps swaying slightly reminding them all of how much he had drunk that night. Cassian slowly placed her onto her feet, she noticed for the first time that his hands were shaking.

His feet stumbled as he stepped back from her, facing her with a pale, disbelieving expression on his face. Anella stared back at him, terror alighting her eyes as she remembered why she was here. In about 2 seconds, she knew she would be on her knees begging him to spare her and find someone else to keep him entertained that night. But he didn't reach to touch her, he simply shook his head once, and the expression was gone, replaced by a cocky bastard who may be slightly drunk and said "Welcome to Velaris."

Anella glanced back at Mor and then back to the general who stretched his back and wings and stepped across the room to grab a glass of strong smelling amber liquid. 

"You should be proud of yourself Cass, that was the most convincing you've been in months. Nearly as convincing as when you said Rhys and you were just sleeping in that cramped war tent."

Cassian snarled a response which Anella didn't care to understand and filled his glass yet again. "I'm not in the mood Mor."

"When are you ever not in the mood? All you do is fuck and fight and do you honestly expect me to believe you can't do both at once?" Anella took a step back quietly, away from the general and the High Lord's third, she wasn't sure what was going on but she sure as hell needed to find a way out.

The male spun towards her and plastered a sickeningly false grin on his tan face, "You're Mor's responsibility, she is the one who didn't want to leave you there after all." The accused started to interject but the general slammed his glass down on the wooden counter and his grin turned feral as he targetted his focus on his friend.

"No. Not my problem. Yours." Footsteps echoed as he strode off down the corridor his bastard brother had taken, looking to the world a slightly pissed off Illyrian warrior who couldn't give two shits what he was walking away from, but Mor knew him well enough to see the twitch of his wing which betrayed his guilt.

The older blonde pivotted to the young female still staring after her previous tormentor. "He's got a big heart and an even bigger dick, but he can be such a cunt sometimes."

"What does he mean by I'm 'your problem?'" First words since the Court of Nightmares, soft and quiet, unsure but not trembling. A brutual acceptence of whatever suffering she expected to find here.

"He means it's up to me to find you a bed for the night, come on slinky we got places to be!" Mor's tone was light, but the word bed made Anellla flinch.

"To sleep in, honey we're not barbaric," a slight shake of her head, a tut and a sigh, before she took off down a different corridor to the 2 males and gestured for the younger female to follow.

They wove through lit corridors, that felt like dark tunnels leading into the deepest pits of hell. Fae lights were positioned like torches along the stone walls, no windows in sight, not this deep into the mountain, and the smell was not entirely unpleasant. It was not blood, it was not rot, it was the smell of ash, of brightly burning log burners and warm drinks. But Anella stayed on her guard, her dark blue dress continued to swish around her pale, too thin legs. For the first time she considered if she was unfit, already being out of breath through these halls made her think perhaps she was. A few more turns made her think she definitely was.

Why had she not exercised at home? Was it even her home, or was it a prison made by her father to hold her long enough to wed off. To make ties to other families and to punch heirs out of the well behaved beautiful girl who was what the Morigan had failed to be, it would show her father to succeed where Kier had not. An attempt to pull himself up a few notches, an attempt now ruined by Cassian and Mors' decision to take her back with them. She wondered if the Morrigan saw herself in Anella, or if she simply wished to spite the Court of Nightmares. Maybe both.

"Here, you should be comfortable enough for the night." The voice startled her out of her thoughts, the tone was softer than before, perhaps realising she was in shock. A dark door swung open infront of her revealing a light coloured room of ivory white and olive green, there was a small window in this room but no balcony, likely on purpose. A large bed in the centre and clothing storage by the right wall. The left wall had a large mirror and a door to what looked like a massive bathing chamber. She would investigate that later.

"Nuala and Cerridwen usually take care of guests here but... uh.. Azriel has likely got them preoccupied." Slow blinking cleared her vision and she turned to consider Mor.

"Preoccupied?"

She winced and shrugged, "Anger and drinking tends to lead to other emotions."

Anella simply stared at her, having lived under the mountain her whole life, sheltered by her father, she truly didn't know much. Mor raised an eyebrow aqt her and shook her head with a slight laugh.

"Doesn't matter, are you okay to get yourself ready?"

"I'll manage." Her tone held a sense of finality and tired, tired acceptance.

"Well... someone will be here to check on you in the morning, then we can... discuss our options." The High Lord's Third regarded her a moment longer then glanced toward the open door and stepped back, leaving the path to the reprieve clear. Anella practically shot into the ivory and green room then spun round, not wanting to leave her back exposed for a second. Her skirt swept around her, the cut down the leg widening and exposing more of her pale skin. Mor's eyes flicked down then back up to the others face, before giving her a genuine smile and saying "Nice dress."

A dainty courtesy was the only response before the door gently closed.

Now all she had to do was work out how to hell to bathe and change so that she could go to bed. Couldn't be too difficult right?


	5. A multi-talented spymaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is where my writing goes to shit and i forget what the fuck im doing

A gentle knock roused her from her sleep. Turns out getting ready for bed took a lot more effort than she had guessed. Maybe that was just because she had always had servants to do that for her. Slowly, Anella sat up and turned to swing her legs out of the bed onto the lush carpet, the wooden post of the bed provided good support as she got to her feet, vision blurring and dots dancing infront of her eyes. Her feet felt clumsy as she half-fell to the door, and clutched the frame to stand on her toes to see through the small peep hole.

Her skin went cold when she was who it was. The shadowsinger. The same male who had obliterated another over a bit of chicken.

It was then she realised a small shadow had slid under the bottom of the door, with a shriek her hands pulled her nightgowns pale blue skirt, which fell to her knees, closer around her, clenching her legs together as she nearly hopped in her frantic retreat from the door where the shadowsinger lurked. 

She didn't know if he could _see_ through those shadows, but she sure as hell didn't want to find out that way. The second cold shiver she expected didn't come at his deep chuckle from the other side of the door. His voice was rough, as if he had been shouting all night, as he said "I was sent to fetch you, don't worry if I wanted to peek you wouldn't be the first on my list."

Although it shouldn't have, the words relaxed her, the obscenitity of the statement didn't rattle her as it should have, merely normalised the suggestion and moved on. She wondered if that was why he was such a good spymaster. If he could relax people so quickly.

"Would you like me to stand on the other side of the door all morning while you do your hair or are you going to be out soon." Azriel sounded pretty bored this morning, the rumours said he was quiet and threatening, but his behaviour this morning suggested otherwise. It gave her the confidence to speak to the solid door.

"I... uh usually have servants..."

His only response was a choked cough and she wondered what he looked like when making that sound, but she definitely didn't have the power to see through wood.

"Nuala and Cerridwen are still... recovering."

"Oh..."

"I'd be happy to fetch Cassian for you?" His tone was amused, like he had nothing more entertaining to do than talk to the sheltered fawn about obscene topics. But this time his words did send a chill down through the very centre of her spine and her muscles locked up as she sat rock still on the edge of her bed, staring at the door.

"No, thank you."

Okay, she could do this. Act like a lady she told herself, act like a lady and everything will be fine. Ladies don't get touched up, although... she had been a lady last night right? No. She had failed as a lady last night when she hadn't bowed, that exempted her from the respect the ladies of court got. She had to do what her father always told her, act like a lady, be treated like a lady. It would be easy, she had trained for this her whole life.

"Well surely you don't want _me_ to help you?" Still amused, likely not having realised her discomfort.

"I-" she paused, "I don't know what I want."

"Well I'd love to have stayed in bed this morning but who else would have collected you."

Anella watched the door warily, and heard a creak from a wooden pane in the hall. He must be leaning on it then, that meant he was relaxed, that meant she wasn't in danger. Well... she thought she wasn't in danger.

"What's going to happen to me?"

Silence. Utter silence filled her room and the corridor. 

She rose and went to look through the peep hole again, to find the corridor empty.

Then a tickle at her ear and, "Boo."

Leaping about a foot in the air she spun on unsteady feet and would have fell face first into the carpet if a broad arm hadn't caught her middle and set her upright. Immediately she shot backwards and pressed against the door she had been warily watching, wondering if he would barge through. Forgetting he didn't need to use the door. Like a fool.

Azriel gave her an easy, lopsided smile and stepped back.

"We are going to be late if you don't hurry up."

Anella simply gazed at him, wide-eyed. A shadow slid over the floor from him towards her and she shrank away from it as it rubbed round her ankles like a cat. Well she imagined it was like a cat, she had never seen one in person. The shadowsinger tilted his head at her and continued smiling, it was unnerving given his stone cold reputation and his behaviour last night.

"You're not how... not how I imagined." A low chuckle escaped his mouth, which seeped under her skin and into her bones.

"I'm not what many people imagine." White teeth flashed as he shot her another wicked grin and he settled into a chair in the corner, on the side of the room with the clothing storage, opposite the mirror and doorway.

"I'm happy to help with anything you need, my lady." 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She dressed in the bathroom, much to the spymasters immense disappointment, in a simple gray cotton gown, which gently hugged her body and left plenty to the imagination. Today would not be a day to flash around her cleavage, although the male watching her had pointed out a shirt which would have done just that with a single raised eyebrow.

Finally, all that was left was her hair, long and golden, falling down her shoulders. She tugged at it, considering what to do. Azriel stood and slowly came up behind her in the mirror. Careful not to spook her, although he had no qualms about it last time. A good quality brush was held gently in her hands and he took it from her slowly and outstretched a finger towards her hair. Brush met hair after she dipped her chin in consent, and he deftly freed it of tangles, towering over her in the mirror as he worked. She was quite short for a Fae, and it didn't help that he was ridiculously tall. 

A death from embarrasment seemed likely, because when his scarred fingers skimmed against the overly sensitive back of her neck, she shivered and leant into the touch. Glancing up to meet his eyes in the mirror was also a mistake, there was no mistaking the smug animalistic glimmer in them as he split the totality of her hair into three, and started to plait.

She shouldn't have been surprised by his talent, he must be used to handling weapons and fine tuning things all the time but her hair had likely never been done so well. Yes it was just a simple, single braid running down her back, but it felt so secure, like she could sprint through the depths of hell without so much as a sole hair escaping the flawless plait. Okay maybe that was an exaggeration, but it was damn well impressive. Azriel seemed to think so as well, because when he stepped back he wore that amused grin again when he regarded his work.

"You must have a lot of practice."

Not really a question, more of a statement, but enough for him to nod and roll his neck, glancing towards the small window in the wall.

"I told you we would be late."

Blushing, Anella stroked the ends of her hair and followed his gaze to the window. The sky was bright with the suns rays and she realised she had no idea what the time was. No dreams had found her last night, a deep, dreamless sleep had greated her like an old friend, a comfort from the near hell she had found herself facing the previous evening. 

The spymaster offered his arm and guided her out of the room. Dark corridors were now light, warm, in the morning light. The sun was truly beautiful, and it was a crime she had never seen it before other than in paintings. Her companion tipped his head to the side and his shadows skipped over his face, falling away properly for the first time she had seen. Stretching out the tops of his shoulders along with a strained grunt as he near desperately tried to soak up the light, he looked far younger than when he was under the mountain. It was barely believable that he had killed last night, he looked so simply relaxed she could almost trick herself into thinking it was a falsehood. But the image was still imprinted too firmly in her mind, and so she moved on and kept following him further upwards and towards the light.

They emerged into pure sunshine on an open top and she blinked, coral eyes adjusting to the new brightness. 

"Stunning isn't it?" The sadness in his tone was unexpected, causing her to glance back at him from where she had stepped further into the gentle carress of heat. Gazing over the sky towards the sea, with the most hopeless expression she had ever seen. Pain flickered in his eyes, as if a long distant memory had forced itself to the surface. Anella turned back to the view and wordlessly nodded her head.

Boots on stone clunked as a hand brushed against her back. "May I?" Another nod. Warm, gentle arms lifted her, one under her knees the other steady against her back, a light breeze swooshed around them as he lifted into the air, massive wings stretched to catch the updraft, before gliding silently down towards the city. 

Velaris was exactly how she had imagined it, how she had been told of it. The gorgeous buildings and houses stretching out into the distance, with the sound of laughter and life filling the bustling streets. Nothing like the sad imitation of a city she had lived in so far. The Hewn City did not deserve to be called by the same name as Velaris. The Hewn City was a shell, filled with shells of blank, empty, scheming people.

Anella continued to watch as Azriel sailed over the streets, no longer caring where he was taking her so long as she had time to enjoy the feeling of the sun on her skin and the breeze against her face.


	6. A Gardener's Prattle

Hearing stories about the High Lord and Lady's Riverside House did not prepare her for its vast beauty. A soft glow came off the stone in the morning light as the dark wings behind her carried them towards the large house. The male behind her did not smile anymore, his hazel eyes focussed on their destination, gaze unreadable, but not with negative feelings.

"A gorgeous piece of architecture isn't it?" Voice flat, no longer amsused or sad, simply low.

"I... I suppose," was her only reply.

"The High Lady designed it herself, Rhys could never dream of making something so beautiful."

Confused eyes turned to meet his own, "You call him... Rhys?"

He snorted in her ear then muttered an apolgoy, "Sometimes I forget you've lived in the Hewn City for your whole life. We're like a family here." Face scrunching up, she turned back to watch as he landed them outside large iron gates. She slid out of his grip more easily than she had Cassian's last night.

Rough hands reached to pull open one side of the gate, and he waved her through infront of him. Uncomfortable, was one word to describe how having him walk behind her, just like how he had done the evening before to push her towards those huge thrones. Following behind her, feet steady, wings tucked in and hands loose by his sides, Azriel kept a pleasant distance, as if he knew she had tensed up the moment she moved ahead.

They stopped on the front steps, large oak doors, one of them cracked open and she watched his shadows move, swift in the dark, scouting ahead to sense out who and where was in the house.

"We'll eat in the kitchen, third left." The monotiny put her on edge, somehow she knew 'we' included many people she had spent her life fearing. Stumbling over the front step, pushing gently into the front hall. Thankfully the house was bright, sun streaming in.

She gazed at the walls, beautiful paintings that were painted by no other than the High Lady of the Night Court. Truly, she was an amazing artist. Azriel grunted behind her as they passed a particuarly complimentive painting of the High Lord, perhaps not as well dressed as he should have been in a public hall. Anella's eyes lingered for long enough that he chuckled and over took her to lead the way down the corridor.

His broad figure shadowed the door, broad wings not even reaching the top of the doorframe, so obviously designed for Illyrian wings. "Good morning, my dearest friends," bored. Anella was pleased she could already read his feelings, but she wondered if 'bored, amused or empty' even counted. Shuffling in behind him, she was fast enough to see the High Lord and Lady, alongside who she assumed from the stories was the middle Archeron sister, Elain, turn to smile at Azriel in surprise.

"Cassian and Mor still out of it?" The High Lord asked, just as he flicked his fingers to make more plates appear.

"Are they ever in it?" Yet again, acting what seemed completely out of character for the silent spymaster.

Feyre, the High Lady narrowed her eyes towards her shadowsinger, "Good night Az?"

Anella slid into the chair furthest from the others, allowing Azriel to take the one without a back. Her morning companion dipped his chin towards Feyre and grinned, she looked taken aback at his blatant smirk and glanced to Rhys.

"Trust me Feyre darling, you do not want to know what it is that unwound him, thinking about it confuses me, even after knowing him for 500 years it's still out of character, so don't even try."

The High Lady turned to watch Azriel for a moment longer, before sliding her blue eyes onto Anella, giving her a wide smile. She stank of sex, it hit Anella like a wave and she blinked, glancing towards the High Lord, Rhysand, and bowing her head slightly.

"Good morning, I thank you for your hospitality."

Rhysand smirked at her, "I trust you had a good night."

"I- the room was lovely, in uh- the House of Wind," she was unsure how to speak to these powerful rulers, "my lord."

"Oh please call me Rhys, titles bore me within my own court, and breakfast is too early for all this nonsense."

Dipping her head to him, she glanced over to Elain and quietly said, "I heard you are the gardener of this house, I love those purple bushes, the smell is simply heavenly."

Lady Archeron smiled back at her and told her some long name of the plant that she would never remember. "It's one of my favourites, really brightens up the garden and it doesn't block too much light to the smaller shrubs like a tree would."

Elain chattered on, and ever the lady, Anella nodded along and made small comments. She was fairly well practised in courtlike conversations, small talk and pointless prattle. The others also smiled and nodded at Elain as she kept blabbing on about her garden. The light in Feyre's eyes was no short of blunt joy, and Anella remembered the tales of the Saviour of Prythian's human life. How hard she had worked to make her ungrateful sisters happy, and now they were happy. Well, Elain was happy. Anella had no clue where the eldest sister was but she had to be happy as well right?

Finally, Feyre started speaking, allowing her sister to fall silent. "So how are you this morning, Anella I believe?" At this, Rhys looked up to watch her, but before she could speak, the shadowsinger at her side answered "It's her first day out of the Hewn City after an incredibly stressful evening having to sit with Cassian despite the fact she's obviously gay, and you ask her how she is? As if it isn't clear enough?"

Slowly, so slowly, she turned her head to stare at him in horror, then quietly, so quietly asked "What..." She could swear she wasn't breathing. Azriel openly laughed and shook his head, "Sorry, couldn't resist."

Anella stared at him wide eyed, stared and stared and stared. Until he looked back at her from his plate and swore. Elain blinked at her plate then clicked her jaw and gently put the cutlery on her plate. The High Lord and Lady exchanged a glance and Rhys turned a broad smile on her and rose to his feet picking up the empty plates, despite the fact he could just use magic. Feyre plastered on a smile and asked Elain something about a book, but Anella couldn't hear the words, yes she could see Feyre's mouth moving, but it was like she was underwater.

Azriel reached over and prodded the back of her hand with a finger, "Apologies, my lady," he murmured. Anella blinked and shook her head.

"No matter," was all she could manage. The shadowsinger's eyes betrayed his worry as he got to his feet to take his own plate, and hers, his hand gently brushing the backs of their hands, starting towards the counter top. The High Lord slid back into a chair and squeezed his mate's hand.

"We should discuss your plans, Anella." Violet eyes turned to regard her as she shifted in her seat, a quick glance towards where Azriel was faffing at the counter, obviously trying to give her space.

"I am at your service, High Lord." Feyre laughed and patted her mate condescendingly.

"Ah yes, High Lord, we are all at your service."

She flushed and tried to apologise but Rhys shook and brushed it off.

"You are welcome to travel wherever you like, we're happy to winnow you wherever you wish." Eyes widening, Anella blinked once and opened and shut her mouth.

"We have a meeting with a representitive from the Day Court, but we can help you more after lunch."

"Oh... thank you..."


	7. A Lady's Hobby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a hot mess im so sorry

Anella wasn't quite sure how she had gotten here, but after breakfast the High Lord and Lady had vanished, and in order to avoid any awkward moments with Azriel she had wandered the halls to find herself in a sun bathed library, with soft leather chairs by low tables, absolutely surrounded by books. She plopped down into one of the chairs, and picked up the nearest book. An adventure book, not really her thing but she didn't have time to be fussy.

About half an hour passed, where she eventually relaxed and stretched out as she read, finding she actually quite enjoyed the tale. Surely someone would come to fetch her when they were done, but if they didn't she would pop back to the kitchen at what felt like lunchtime, to see what was happening. However right now, after so many years in the dark, Anella wanted to sit in the sun.

Then she heard footsteps, harsh on the floor, likely so she wouldn't feel snuck up on. That didn't stop her from rising to her feet and spinning round to see who was disrupting her, already prepared to bow if it was the High Lord and Lady, she wasn't making that mistake again. But it was not Feyre and Rhysand, no, it was Cassian. Smirking down at her a book open in one hand assessing her little nest she had started to make in her morning here.

"Enjoying the sun?" His voice was nothing more than a drawl, and it raked along her bones and made her tremble.

"Of course." Anella's tone came out sharper than she intended as she set her shoulders and cautiously perched back in her chair, watching the general with care.

"You must have been quite sheltered in the Hewn City," Cassian mused, turning away slightly to run a finger over the spine some books on a nearby shelf.

"I _was_ ," her throat nearly chocked up on the word, what had been taken away from her, all that her father had tried to protect her from, to protect her from males. Her father told her Illyrian males were the worst, and he would do his very best to stop her from ever having to face one, at the time she thought he was just overly paranoid, trying to make her want to never head northward into Illyria, where he would be unable to reach her if she ran, but he had been right. This male, so calmly looking at books, was a menace, and he had truly scared her last night.

Cassian twisted his head to regard her over his shoulder, hand pausing over the top of one of the novels. 

"I was doing my job Anella." Her hands shook ferociously and she dropped the book she had just been reading with a loud thump onto the wooden table.

"Your job?!" Anella's voice rose, and she alongside it, knees shaking under her as she stared at him, "Your job to grope me in front of my father and the entire court?!"

He blinked back at her calmly, noting her shaking, her fear at him, which was overpowered by the anger shooting through her veins.

"Your.... your job to run your hands over my thighs while I begged you to stop?" Her fury was freezing in her blood, and she felt cold all over. Floorboards creaked under his boots as Cassian turned fully to meet her gaze.

"I apologise, if you felt violated, but we have to keep your people in line, in return we will give you as much gold as you can fit in your pockets, and move you out of the Hewn City."

"That does not excuse your behaviour," Anella felt some part of her mind taking over, the reasonable part, and her voice didn't sound like her own anymore. "You Illyrian brutes are all the same, you treat women like complete objects the lot of you."

The eyes that stared back at her glazed slightly and he dropped his gaze, "I am deeply sorry for any discomfort I have caused you, and would like you to know I did my best to hurt you as little as possible while still looking like a convincing bastard."

She blinked at him a few times, perhaps he wasn't so bad, but the lines were already so blurred that she needed something to be clear, and all she had was that he was in the wrong. But there was something she had been wondering, and so she spoke slowly.

"That... that pattern?" she turned her face back towards his, as he watched her in earnest, and she decided in that moment he was likely very apologetic for his behaviour.

"Which one?" was his only response.

"The one you kept repeating, over and over." This was easier, a much easier topic, although it still brought back bad memories.

Cassian made a small noise and moved towards her, she shrank back but he only reached for paper and a writing instrument. He used the table, and one of the hardcover books to mark out lines on the paper then turned back to her, flashing it up at her with a questioning smile.

"This pattern?" Anella nodded, eyes still wide from his near proximity, and he seemed to sense it because he took a few steps back, giving her space.

"What is it?" her voice was quieter than she wanted it to be, but he heard her just fine and gave her that typical cocky smile.

"It's a battle formation sweetheart, not something you'll have ever seen before as a lady in that city but it's just that, new Illyrian formation I'm trying to improve."

Anella was fed up, she started to bare her teeth at him, standing up taller, mouth opening to say something very very insulting, when a swirl of shadow slipped between them and rose upwards, forming into a winged male. Azriel.

"You really don't have any hobbies do you brother, spending your free time looking over battle strategies, I do believe it was your day off today." 

"Piss off Az, why are you standing up for her anyway? She was just about to try whoop my ass."

She plopped back down onto the chair, supressing a sigh, and waited to see what would happen.

"Well if you don't go _I_ _will_ whoop your ass." He seemed to actually mean it as well, though after his performance last night she didn't know if she wanted him to.

"I heard you were in an excellent mood today Azriel? What happened, Jacob visit town again?"

The spymaster snarled, wings flaring as he took a step towards his brother, "Don't bring that into this." His voice was deadly quiet, filled with wrath.

"What you don't want me to bring the fact that you spent all of last night, getting fucked by a very handsome male which has made you want to be charitable this morning."

Azriel looked like he wanted to drive Cassian's face into a wall, but he just stared at his friend and raised an eyebrow, "Jealous?"

The general's face went blank, emotions flickering through his eyes too quick to see, and simply turned around, throwing a "I'll see you both later," over his shoulder as he strutted away. The remaining Illyrian took two steps to a nearby chair and elegantly slid into it, tilting his head at her curiously.

"You like to read?"

Anella shook her head in response, no she would never enjoy the act of sitting still and staring at dead trees.

"Then why are you here?"

His voice was soft, the voice of a spymaster, the voice to trick you into thinking you're safe, but his performance last night, ripping apart that male, kept her tense, and she just turned back to her book with a shrug, reading the same page, page 15, for the 7th time that morning.

Azriel had the grace to just look amused, as he leaned forward to pick up a random book off the table, and started to flick through it, in a mimicry of her own browsing.

The male kept glancing up at her, and giving her a disarming smile. After about 5 minutes, she dropped her book on the table with a sigh.

"I suppose to an outsider it would be funny to see two people pretending to read in order to avoid conversing."

"I suppose it would." He kept smiling at her, hazel eyes careful, the usually haunted part of them gone, as Azriel banished it like he could walk away from his past without a second thought, a quality many people wished they had, but maybe it made it all the worse when he allowed it to seep back in.

"In the Hewn City... the only relationships are between males and females..."

The shadowsinger tensed, looking caught out as his eyes bore into her own, but he didn't know what to say. After her reaction to his joke about her sexuality, he had just wanted to abandon the topic completely, yet here she was.

"What's it like... in the rest of the Night Court?" Anella's voice quavered slightly, and she stopped meeting his eyes, staring at her hands like they held the answers to her 25 years of suffering.

"The Night Court, and the Solar Courts in general, are the most accepting ones, but the other courts don't mind either, Thesan has a male lover for example."

She looked surprised to hear that, but she simply mumbled, "That's why they hate him so much."

Azriel gave a hum of agreement and stretched out his feet. "You can love whoever you want to love here, it shouldn't effect how people treat you and if it does that's not right. And never let them tell you that it is right, because you're the only one who can decide who you want in your life."

Anella couldn't stop the grin that spread over her face, as she looked up at him, and so quietly that only the shadows could hear, whispered "Really?"

He nodded at her reasuringly and got to his feet, "Yes, Anella, really."

She could only watch as he melted in pure sunlight, to dark shadows and vanished from the room.

Anella sat for a few minutes, a warm glow in her chest as she thought about what he had said. She had never told anyone about her sexuality before, and she truly appreciated the first being so welcoming, although it sounded like he got in enough gay adventures to know what it was like. ** _  
_**

She picked up on the door opening, and tensed, unsure if it was Cassian back to stir up trouble, but she just heard a velvety laugh, and Rhysand's drawl of, "I want to believe you Theora, but it's a ridiculous notion that they named _him_ the patron saint of sewing! He's a war diety for crying out loud." ** _  
_**

"You of all people know how essential sewing can be on the battlefield Rhys. Need I remind you of that time Saur knicked your artery during the Blood Rite? You would have died if Cassian hadn't learnt to sew." ** _  
_**

The High Lord grumbled about Cassian only learning to sew to get in his mothers good books, and he appeared round the corner, accompanied by a laughing Feyre and a female, who appeared to be from the Day Court. ** _  
_**

"Oh hi Anella!" Feyre called, but even as she spoke the Day Court female turned, surprise flaring in her eyes as she saw her.

The one who Anella worked out would be the aforementioned, Theora, looked back to Feyre and echoed, "Anella?"

Feyre smiled back, to mask her confusion, "This is Anella, she's visiting from another part of the Night Court."

Rhys gave Anella a wicked smile and turned to Theora, "You can't use this as an excuse not to prove your point, dearest Theora, if you do I will simply assume you lied."

Theora laughed along with the High Lord and Lady, but immedietely turned back to stare at Anella, she started to feel a tad self-conscious.

"What was your mother's name?"

Blinking in surpise, she tried to remember, she had only ever called her 'Mother' but if she recalled correctly...

"I only heard it once... it started with a 'T'... maybe Tree something?"

"Triana?" Theora's voice sounded empty, dull as she continued to stare at the younger Fae.

"Yes, I think so."

"Triana was my best friend when I was younger, and then her family moved to the Night Court, and I never saw her again... What happened to her?"

Theora sounded like she really didn't want to know, but she smoothed her hands on her skirts and waited, hopefully.

"She died a few years after I was born, an infection of a kind, Father refused to get her a healer from another court, especially Dawn... he said nature had to take it's course."

She felt, more than saw the anger flare in the three Fae as they listened to her. 

"You still live with your father?"

"Until yesterday, I had never left."

Theora looked intruiged at that, and tilted her head, "Where are you going to go?"

The question made her feel empty, as she realised, she did not know. So that is what she said, and the Day Court female smiled sadly at her and made her an offer she couldn't refuse.

"Would you like to come back to the Day Court with me?"


End file.
